2019, Borjass projects, participation at Ostrale biennale, Dresden, Germany 2019, Kajkook, Gozar gallery, Isfahan 2019, Resident in Crumple group exhibition, Isoo gallery, Amol 2018, Mazandaran artists, Nouran gallery, Ghaem-shahr 2018, Postcard, Isoo gallery in cooperation with Azad gallery, Amol 2018, Postcard, Haft Aeene gallery, Sari 2018, Resident in Crumple group exhibition, Isoo gallery 018,Karbafo Postcard, Aban Gallery, Shiraz
2018,Karbafo Postcard, Abad gallery, Tehran 2018,Karbafo Postcard, Houmer gallery, Kerman 2018,Karbafo Postcard, Didar gallery, Isfahan 2018, New Generation, Zar gallery, Amol 2018, Resident in Crumple group exhibition, Isoo gallery, Amol
2017, Borjass projects, Experimental Drawing, Isoo gallery Amol 2016, Self Portrait, Isoo gallery, Amol 2016, Borjass projects, Self Portrait, Isoo gallery, Amol
2016, Borjass projects, Conceptual Portrait, Isoo Gallery, Amol 016, Resident in Crumple group exhibition, Isoo gallery, Amol 2015, Contemporary artists painting exhibition, Isoo gallery, Amol 2015, Borjass projects, Isoo gallery, Amol 2015, Borjass projects, Art gallery, Sari 2014, Resident in Crumple group exhibition, Zar gallery, Amol
In today’s world, the media has a special place. So that the power of preservation has the power to transform the culture of society. The media can shape cultural, social, and so on values by targeting audiences point of view. But today the media, rather than representing reality or addressing the real need of society, is trying to create a reality that is manipulated presenting to the audience. It’s a constructed reality only visible in the camera frame and does not fit with what is happening outside the camera.
Robert Schlodrick One of the most advanced quantum physicists in one of the most remarkable achievements of human sciences proves that: every material has memory that is able to transfer the information by creating mood through time and space. So I chose gypsum pieces. Plaster is one of the most intense materials, which has a serious presence in our space during history. Crack and burnout are show what happen to this material, and what I make by this plaster is the shape of memories that are reserved for people who pass through our minds. The combination of my thoughts with the plaster is what you look.
You leave something in you that bit by bit takes its place inside you, sucks your soul, sucks your body, and its presence as you approach death is still there. There is only one thing left of you later: a hatred left in your throat or a broken glass in your chest. Something that sometimes becomes so necessary that forgetting it, that is, losing a part of oneself, does not matter, even if there is a pair of scissors left in your throat or, hatefully, a breath. Even if the uterus is empty, you are used to putting your hand on your abdomen and you will never touch it, because if this happens, nothing will fill the empty space of the losses. I can not forget, but I know forgetting well. Now the decay leaves me breathless with a wounded and permanent hatred in me